


Sendai to Sapporo

by slothesaurus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Noodles, Pining, Post-Canon, Wanderlust, flower fields
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothesaurus/pseuds/slothesaurus
Summary: Kogane blinks slowly, fingers returning to his laces as he nods, eyes curious.It isn’t until Kenji smacks the extra plane ticket onto his fluff of dark brown hair, calloused hand firm over the thick paper, that he realizes it.That. Feeling.It starts much earlier for Koganegawa.But for Kenji, oh, for Kenji.It starts here.
Relationships: Futakuchi Kenji/Koganegawa Kanji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Sendai to Sapporo

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been eons but I have been holding off posting this old work from a fanzine that never saw light. I hope some Dateko fluff makes your 2020 a little brighter. The Iron Wall can always be rebuilt!! Please hang in there!

🌱

Kenji watches as Koganegawa plops down on the shiny hardwood floors, tying his shoe with a languid smile, head bopping from side to side as he hums a song that makes Kenji’s mouth struggle not to twitch up at the corners.

“Hey, Kogane.”

Kogane immediately responds, barking out an energetic _“Osu!”_ , eyes whipping up to stare at him. His hands slow, laces half-done, aglets pinched between his taped-up fingers.

And there it is, that halo of devotion a shade brighter than the one Kogane wears for any of the other upperclassmen. That weighed little twinkle he’s seen shot his way even before he’d become captain.

_That_ feeling.

Kenji doesn’t know how to deal with those half the time, especially when he finds himself constantly allergic to his own.

He brushes it off; looms over him, one hand on his hip. “A little libero told me you were free this weekend.”

Kogane blinks slowly, fingers returning to his laces as he nods, eyes curious.

It isn’t until Kenji smacks the extra plane ticket onto his fluff of dark brown hair, calloused hand firm over the thick paper, that he realizes it.

That. _Feeling_.

It starts much earlier for Koganegawa.

But for Kenji, _oh_ , for Kenji.

It starts here.

🌱

“Futakuchi-senpai,” Koganegawa’s fingers graze the skin of Kenji’s wrist bone, tugging softly at the cuff of his sleeve to get his attention, “Do you remember the first time we met?”

Kenji doesn’t lift his temple from the small window; merely cracks an eye open to peer at Koganegawa with a half-lidded gaze. “Hmm?” 

The question catches him off-guard. His eye flutters shut again, thoughtful hum growling louder and less thoughtful as he contemplates his answer.

The old man seated in front of them grunts in irritation at the building crescendo of Kenji’s voice, which only means Kenji gets even louder before abruptly cutting off.

“Didn’t you bow so hard in front of Moniwa-san that you ended up headbutting him and giving him a nosebleed?” He doesn’t open his eye again, slouching instead to the constant whir of turbines and the soft murmur of other passengers.

“Ah, well, yes, but that was the team introductions!” Koganegawa politely corrects around a mouthful of chocolate-covered sunflower seeds. “I meant when we first talked!”

Kenji breathes out a drowsy sigh, opening both eyes to look out the plane window. He can’t see Sendai Airport anymore, Tajima’s barley fields rolling crisp and muted under the early morning sun in its stead. They’re still an hour from landing and Kenji already feels a weariness he thought he left back in the clubroom.

“Oh, uh, no…” Kenji graciously continues Kogane’s conversation, seeing if he can spot any cows trying to graze despite it still being winter. “I probably insulted you, though. I _do_ remember Aone crushing my face trying to shut me up.” 

“Yes, I remember that part too!” Kogane beams from his tiny seat next to Kenji, perking up as if Kenji had dutifully recalled their first encounter down to the exact time their eyes locked.

Truthfully, Kenji remembers the first time he met Kogane quite well, but recounting it as vividly as possible might convince people he openly appreciates sentiment when, _really_ , he’ll just hoard that ball of heartstrings until his ashes sit in a fancy urn right next to Aone’s.

The thought makes him press his face into the cool glass of his window with another sigh, renewed petulance fogging up the pane for him to doodle the characters for _‘betrayal’_ next to a crude drawing of a bear.

“Aw, Aone.” Kenji sighs again, wistfuIness slightly bitter on his tongue as he mimics a newly widowed mother of six, “I miss him. Even if he _did_ ditch me last minute.”

“Don’t worry, senpai!” Koganegawa beams in a way that’s impossible for him to ignore, Kenji hesitantly looking through narrowed eyes at the eager glow. “I’ll make sure we have just as much fun as Aone-san would’ve managed!”

“Uh-huh,” Kenji coos back skeptically, reaching out to pat the side of Kogane’s face twice before plucking a wayward sunflower seed from the corner of his mouth to flick at the back of the grumpy old man’s head. “We’ll see.”

Koganegawa lets the quip fly over his head, beaming even wider before offering Kenji his open bag of seeds. “I’ll do my best!”

🌱🌱

“Senpai, senpai!” Kogane sinks his nails into the hem of Kenji’s wool jacket and _pulls_ , “Since we’re here we should try to visit _all_ the flower fields!”

Kenji pauses from focusing his phone camera on his guilt-inducing drawing of a sullen seal and a pointy-haired penguin adrift from the mainland where a stoic polar bear sits beside a placard declaring _‘heartbreaker’_ on it.

He turns to face him, eyes glazing over at the thought of parading through an endless field of tall flower stalks with Kogane darting to and fro through a sea of petals.

Slightly adorable. _Slightly_. Mostly a heart attack if he had to be subjected to it for over an hour.

Kogane keeps a firm grip on Kenji’s considerably expensive jacket and fidgets next to him, irritatingly reminiscent of a cuddle-starved puppy.

“Kogane, I told you already, it’s _February._ ” He sprinkles each word with an extra dollop of sugary patience, whipping his lens toward Kogane’s ecstatic face and captioning the image: ‘ _WISH YOU WERE HERE. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE MISSING_.’ Kogane blinks at the loud sound of the shutter. “The only thing blooming right now are probably plum blossoms… and I don’t think they have those in Sapporo.”

“Oh…” Kogane wilts delicately, gaze dropping to the crunchy sidewalk pavement with brows furrowed in concentration. “The lavender fields in Tomita?”

Kenji stops staring at the looping animation of Aone’s three bouncing punctuations and purses his lips. “Those bloom in June, Kogane.”

“Ah, that’s right, they’re more for summer….” Koganegawa hums his assent, swinging the fabric of Kenji’s jacket right then left.

“Yep.”

Aone finally replies with a photo of his own. It’s his sister in a hospital bed; the signature Aone shy smile and impressive shoulders easy to spot, sweat-soaked and tired as she holds a wrinkled bundle in her arms. There’s no caption, but Aone adds a message right after:

_‘She let me name him Kenji…. Sorry I couldn’t go with you. Please try to have fun with Kogane-kun and Sasaya-san.’_

Kenji stares at it blankly, glaring at his own reflection when the screen dims, guilty and elated. And now, more importantly, obligated to be less whiny about not getting to be Sasaya’s problem-kouhai again because he has his own problem-kouhai to coddle.

“Does this mean we can’t ride a tractor in Biei either?” Kogane wonders, hope stuttering cautiously out of his mouth as he stops swinging the bottom of Kenji’s jacket.

“Kogane,” Kenji shoves his drawing and phone into a pocket, freeing his hand to furiously ruffle his hair, “We’re not touring all of Hokkaido to see flowers. We’re here to see Sasaya-san.”

At this he gestures to the black laundry bag slumped between their feet, stuffed full of omiyage from the team and Sasaya’s parents. Under their scrutiny, it tips, and because Kenji is Kenji he nudges it so it collapses over Koganegawa’s feet instead of his own.

“That’s really heavy.” Kogane notes, bending down to grasp the thick rope handles.

“Probably because there’s a thermal bag of frozen fishcake in there. Your turn to carry it, by the way,” Kenji says as he stares at the top of Kogane’s head, eyeing the coffee-brown knit cap perched over an unruly blonde mess.

His fingers hesitate just above Kogane’s cap, feeling nostalgic. He remembers the smell of fresh salonpas and the slight tang of the metal beams in their gym. A row of new recruits. A first year with ridiculous, off-Kamasaki blonde spikes and a stark tuft of dark brown that made him look hilariously like—

“—like sunflowers!”

Kenji comes back to himself, narrowly avoiding a nosebleed as Koganegawa rockets back to full height, bag gripped tight in one hand as he sets sparkling eyes onto him.

“What?” Kenji barks, bewildered at Kogane reading his mind.

Kogane cocks his head to the side, tentatively repeating himself: “Maybe Sasaya-san would want to see the sunflowers with us? In Hokuryu? That’s near here, right?”

Kenji stares at him dumbly, frozen still before his hand darts forward to tug the cap over Kogane’s eyes, gently knocking a fist against his head.

“Sunflowers, Kogane.” He explains—almost weeps—as he continues hitting his head, “ _Sunflowers_ . That _love_ the _sun_ . In the _summer_.”

He grinds his knuckles into Kogane’s temples with great restraint, slowly enunciating through gritted teeth. “It’s _February_. Why the sudden interest in touring all the flower fields anyway?”

“Ow, _ow_ —why?” Kogane echoes in surprise— _as if it weren’t obvious—_ , fingers tugging his cap up just enough to peer at Kenji ardently, “I thought it’d be fun walking in a field of flowers with you, senpai!”

Kenji’s hands stop, mouth dropping open like a fish. His fists uncurl and twitch awkwardly in the space around Koganegawa’s unbelievably fond expression.

“I… um. That’s—” Kenji suddenly feels lost, ticking through a list of positive adjectives that stumble at the seam of his lips.

Kogane starts to tilt his head but gasps instead, excitement bubbling into an open-mouthed grin.

“Futakuchi-san!” Kogane yells right at his face, slinging the omiyage bag over his shoulder and returning his hand to the poor, abused hem of Kenji’s jacket. “Sapporo ramen! Authentic Sapporo miso ramen!”

Kenji tries to pry off Kogane’s fingers, other hand clamping on the boy’s wrist as he squints at the small shop Kogane’s desperately trying to march towards.

“Kogane, slow down,” He chastises, jiggling Kogane’s arm, though if Onagawa were here he’d surely have to fend off statements of Kenji not seriously trying to get away. “Every Sapporo ramen shop serves authentic Sapporo ramen, you idiot.”

🌱🌱

“So, I’ve been wondering…” Kenji figures there’s no better time to ask considering where they are. He stares at an assortment of brochures settled at the corner of the bar, particularly one glossy photo brandishing a multitude of colors undulating in a vast field, stylized promotions peppered around it.

“Hmm?” Kogane makes a noise to show he’s listening, but his eyes are steadfastly glued to the pile of sweet corn huddled beside Kenji’s bowl.

Kenji observes Kogane’s face, gnawing on the end of his chopsticks, “About when we first met.”

_That_ gets his full attention.

“I called you sunflower-head because I couldn’t remember your name,” he confirms casually. In retrospect, it wasn’t even that clever of an insult. Aone still hit him pretty hard for it though.

Koganegawa takes a noisy slurp of his ramen. “You did! I was really surprised, to be honest.”

“But not offended.”

“Well, no.” Kogane agrees, battling with the ramen noodles to get a shiso leaf, “It felt like a compliment.”

Kenji makes a disgruntled face. “Why?”

“Why?” Kogane mimics, swishing his toes under their barstools, “Like you said, sunflowers are at their best when under the sun! I knew that was your way of giving me advice as my senpai!”

Kenji raises an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of pork as he waits for an elaboration.

“If Dateko was the sun, then I, as the sunflower, would be at their best with you!” He says passionately, smiling at the memory, “It was so inspiring I never forgot it….”

“...Right.”

Kogane’s smile dims unexpectedly, “Even when I was letting the team down, it was in the back of my mind.”

Kenji pauses mid-slurp, face hidden by his bowl. Slowly, he sets the bowl down, propping his chin on his palm.

“Like I said, sunflowers bloom during summer.” He reminds him, theatrically blasé as he stares at the other patrons. “You’re not a sunflower, so you don’t have to wait for summer. If you’re so convinced you can let us down at any time, then you can do your best at any time, too.”

At first, around the same time he’s nudging his side dish toward Koganegawa, Kenji thinks it’s just mild indigestion.

But then he turns back and sees Kogane’s cheeks flush under the ramen shop lights, scooping up the little bowl and dumping it into his half-finished broth. He beams and bows so low his forehead almost hits the hard wooden table. Kenji catches him just in time, palm warm over his brow, and that’s when it happens again.

That feeling.

An annoying breath at the back of his neck, humid, like steam curling up from a fresh bowl of miso ramen. Warm and cozy and just too, _too_ sweet for someone like Kenji.

He pushes Kogane upright, flicking his forehead and returning to his own food. He’s too preoccupied trying to choke on a noodle to notice Kogane smiling down at his chopsticks, munching happily on a pale kernel of corn.

🌱🌱🌱

Sasaya’s fresh off his group’s boat by the time Kenji and Kogane trot into Usujiri. He rubs a hand through unstyled hair, cut shorter than they remember, and waves them over to the end of the docking bay, double-checking his duffel bag as a few other students slap at his head or shoulder, trudging off the ramp with their own belongings.

“Sasaya-san! We missed you!” Kogane shrieks, unfiltered as he bows and shoves the omiyage bag at his face.

Sasaya’s laughter booms in the harbor, happily taking the bag and nudging the drawstring open to peer inside. “Nametsu told me to expect some Miyagi kamaboko.”

“Don’t worry, it’s there.” Kenji assures him, angelic for five seconds before he attacks, “More importantly, Sasaya-san, did you shrink? Or is that because your hair is drooping now? Has college really been that stressful? Have the fish you studied communicated with you about your hairstyle choices?”

Sasaya’s warm smile strains by the slightest margin, eyes narrowing as he shakes his head. “Missed me too, huh, Futakuchi?”

Kenji coyly avoids eye contact and shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels as a seagull cries in the distance. “It’s a mystery, Sasaya-san.”

Sasaya rolls his eyes and moves towards him, ruffling up Kenji’s hair then pinching his nose. “Do I at least get a hug?”

Kenji gives him a flat look, hand darting out from his pocket to clasp the back of Kogane’s neck.

“Sure thing, Sasaya-san.” He flashes him one of his more irritating grins, gently shoving Kogane into Sasaya’s space.

Sasaya snorts and raises his eyebrows, opening his arms wide for a confused Koganegawa, who jauntily hugs him. From the comfort of Kogane’s shoulder, Sasaya stares, brows wiggling threateningly. Then he’s storming forward, Koganegawa still wrapped around him, closing in on Kenji and tugging him close against Kogane’s back.

“Ugh, Sasaya-san, I thought you were above this!” Kenji whines into Koganegawa’s nape while Sasaya dutifully ignores both of them to ask his disembarking classmates where _their_ old kouhai were.

Koganegawa stays uncharacteristically quiet and still, accepting the brunt of the punishment with an unnerving silence. Kenji puffs out a frosty breath on the back of his neck, adjusting Kogane’s scarf when he sees the goosebumps appear. He rests his cheek against the thin barrier between them, ignoring the steady flush of color rising on his skin, and waits out Sasaya toting them about as his loyal underclassmen.

🌱🌱🌱

“Sasaya-senpai.” Kenji calls softly from his futon on the floor. Kogane’s drooling into his own futon beside him, curled up on his side and muttering something about Karasuno’s number ten eating all the fried rice.

He can’t see Sasaya from his vantage point, but there’s a rustle of blankets before his deep voice rumbles, “Ohh, Sasaya- _senpai_ , huh? You must want something then.”

“Ugh, come on, I’m not even being difficult here.” Other than waking his university student host up at two in the morning.

Sasaya’s sleep-worn voice crackles as he laughs into a pillow, “Right, right, sorry. What is it, my forever kouhai?”

Kenji snorts, earning a huffy snore from Kogane as he rolls over.

“Going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he mutters, mourning the absence of Aone’s soothing presence. “I was wondering… you’re on your university’s volleyball team, right?”

“Sure am.” The note of pride in Sasaya’s voice makes Kenji grin.

He rolls onto his side, watching the steady rise and fall of Kogane’s form, clothed by a hideous Vabo-chan shirt. “How does your team feel about hosting Miyagi’s Iron Wall, maybe around summer?”

Sasaya peers at him curiously over the edge of his bed. “That’s a little far off. Why summer?”

“No real reason.” Kenji reaches out, tugging the edge of Kogane’s blankets back up over his shoulders.

“Just a feeling.”

🌻

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my thesis on Two Blunt Idiots Pining Between Flowers. Please feel free to share with anyone you'd think needs some Dateko power! Dateko or not, you can withstand anything! (ง •̀_•́)ง


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